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Wolf Jan 9
A day can drag on for a year
While a year can fly by in a day
Time itself
Is quite the anomaly
Yanamari Oct 2018
Wouldn't it be lovely
To lose yourself
Wouldn't it be lovely
If the world turned dark.
Wouldn't it be lovely
If all felt void
Wouldn't it be lovely
If I breathed no more.

Too tired to argue
With thoughts that float closeby
Too tired.

And if I don't fit your standards
Then, you have to paint
A standard on me?
The world is your canvas
And so you smile at what you
Want to see?
I love you guys
That's as clear as can be
Love us in your standard
And in the moonlight
Let the glowing soul leave.
You've made your shells,
Why do you need their cores?
Acting like they're free...

Am I an anomaly?
Too tired to tell.
I don't want to take the time
To explain who I am.
Not every single time.
Easier to say goodbye but
I'm flying high
Too fast for me to.
Too tired.
Just let me be me.
Random yet connected thoughts
Morning Feb 2018
A twisted gray glow
Opaque
Almost seen
With grace, it swiftly moves with the breeze
Envelops your soul before you can clearly see

The fleeting love
From a Narcissistic Anomaly

A mist, Steam
Hot with acrimony
Slow boil of your heart
While rhetorical lacerations dice at the mind within
Thick, it laps at your stew
Jealousy          Pain           Sorrow
Delighting in all the accents that it brewed

A twisted gray glow
Opaque
Almost seen
With one last cut to make sure you bleed
It swiftly leaves
Ignoring all your pleas

The fleeting love
From a Narcissistic Anomaly
Meh
Anomaly Nov 2017
What is the time
What is on your mind friend
Do you question when it all ends
Or simply why it began
Are scary things for our entertainment
Are they just distractions from the real scare.
The world is really really big ,and can only truly be seen by the blind cat

Yet the dog asks why he too can't go to outer space

Dogs need oxygen to breath btw
So do humans ...but nobody cares about either anymore
Okay goodnight moon
This is how I think . can some one make me into an AI now
Gabriel burnS Jun 2017
Mantis, you are mad because
After our dates my head is
Standing on my shoulders;
Such a disappointment,
Should’ve been disjointed
By your love,
But nature does anomalies
Not necessarily
Related to anatomy
Can we still be friends?
Does it work that way?
I don’t think we’re enemies
Even after injuries are caused,
Yet I’m not automated
In behavior,
Hanging up on risky calls,
I am not a savior;
Secret powers: common sense.
Forgive me if I’m on the fence,
Known so many lose their heads
Don’t look back and thanks for all!
...mantises, a topic I read about recently...
Jayantee Khare Apr 2017
Not interested in pretty hearts,
Happy people, shining stars...

Give me the broken to repair
Will heal the one in despair

Battle wounded splintered heart
Blistered souls tearing apart

Loving them with all my heart
Brighten their life, light their dark

These are the people kept on going
Had their fights but not showing

I Love the shades of melancholy
Call me weird, a phenomenal anomaly.....
I relate with such ppl...happy ones can be happy without me but such people need me
Meg Howell Feb 2017
A contradiction.
An anomaly.
Representing everything I am and everything I want to be.
My passion in the afternoon, followed by my silence in the evening.
It'd take you a lifetime to understand me.
Smily-face-mask Feb 2016
In a world of brag berrys and eye phones
The desired no longer is the required
And the smiles are  synonymous with the flash and camera.
With a startling contraction of hiding less and wanting more
And lopsided talk that grows airtight, less each week
As the enemy we hunt lie in our beds, we seem more estranged from our sons
Welcome to the iron and concrete maze we call life, with our only reward a starting line
And defiance, a strength I must find
Least I become deficient among my kind

I rise to the surface like a corpse
And my stench filling the morning air
******* the ear but deep to the soul
With one message on my morbid lips
Come die with me!
To all your landlocked dreams
To all your chains shackles and beams
And enjoy the privileges of a dead man
Who has no life to live other than his.
Because in losing I can find
And in ending I can begin again
Notes (optional)
Martin Narrod Feb 2016
the ceiling i now wear my eyes up
plastic black garbage bags and the rainbows fuse
wood-stock, bare beams and studs fixed with lines from dried
desiccate nails poked through

on
Milwaukee Avenue the miscarriages of newer child abuse shows through
characters worth keeping close are quieter than I'd choose, the mean grifters are so loud it's trying too hard to be obtuse. Anyone can be an ***
but my assholedom is strained from confusion and too much use. Underneath the mountains inside a record box, I only want to live where you're a fixture and a friend. My fingertips are bent, I can sew, I can write, I can breathe inside your mouth if you'll allow me too.
TAB Aug 2015
N. a deviation from the common norm. Something or somebody who does not fit in.

A glitch, an error in systematic method.

Something abnormal.

Something strange.

Something mind boggling.  

Exactly what I was meant to be.
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